Same, but Different
by alwaysalrose
Summary: Everybody's the same, but everybody's different. Chapter One: Dominique's first eleven years weren't eventful. Dominique's first seventeen years were.
1. Just the Spare

Dominique Lilian Weasley was the middle child of William and Fleur Weasley. She had red hair, and blue eyes, and pale skin dotted with freckles. She was cold and dark and feared.

* * *

><p>Dominique Lilian Weasley got her first three nicknames in the space of two years. Dom;Dommy;Domino. She hated all three, not that anyone seemed to care. It was always "Hurry up, Dom." "Look at Dommy!" Or "Silly Domino." She had thought being the eldest in the family would make her more respected, but everyone took her as a joke. She wasn't Victoire, or Teddy, so why did she matter? She didn't. She was just Dominique Weasley after all, not the only Lupin or the first grandchild.<p>

* * *

><p>Dominique Lilian Weasley had her first bout of accidental magic aged three and a half; Victoire hadn't even shown any magic yet. Perhaps, Dominique thought, she could be noticed for once. She was playing with her baby brother when she got slightly frustrated and she made him rise two and a half meters in the air. Everybody tumbled out, but not one of them took any notice of Dominique; they didn't even seem to know it was her who had done it. Instead they cooed and clapped over Louis, leaving Dominique a lot more bitter than she had started out.<p>

* * *

><p>Dominique Lilian Weasley soon had her eleventh birthday. Her sister and kind-of cousin were already at Hogwarts, and she was excited to join them.<p>

She woke up bright and early on her birthday, jumping around the place. She slid off the top bunk (Victoire only slept on the bottom when she was home, which she wasn't - she was at Hogwarts.) and ran out of her room. Her letter had already arrived, and her parents had left it stuck to her door. She grabbed it and ripped it open. But to her disappointment, it was exactly the same as her sister's - from the 'Miss Weasley' to the 'Headmistress McGonagall'. Nothing special - not really.

* * *

><p>And that is how Dominique Lilian Weasley's life was so bitter, for those first eleven years.<p>

* * *

><p>She went to Hogwarts, and saw her sister and kind-of cousin sitting together at the Gryffindor table. They called out her name - shortened, this time, just 'Dominique Weasley'. And she ran up, sat on the stool and let the hat rummage around her thoughts. A few times it almost made a decision, then changed its mind. She didn't really fit any house - she wasn't smart or cunning or brave or kind. But they sent her to Hufflepuff, and Dominique wasn't really sure why, but it was the first difference in her life. The first thing she could be noticed for.<p>

* * *

><p>She soon graduated, as all people do, and hers was quite different from Dominique's. For one thing, Victoire hadn't made a speech on how much she hated most of Hogwarts and that three quarters of the grade could go fuck themselves. But that was a difference, all the same, and that was something Dominique would always be remembered for.<p> 


	2. We Can Do It

I rest my hand on Rose's shoulder. I can't believe it. I told her to be careful! And she wasn't. She shakes with sobs and I make no gesture of comfort. It's her fault, anyways. Not mine.

She turns to face me, her bushy red hair shaping her round face. "Albus, please." _Albus, please. _I stare her in the eye, silently daring her to move. She doesn't. Rose just shakes. "I can't do this without you, Al. I _need _you." She needs me. She needs me. I never thought Rose Weasley would ever need anything other than a book. But she does. And that was the old, proper Rose I was thinking of anyway. Not this Rose.

"You should have been more careful." I say in an even voice. Tears spill down her face and I harden. I can't give in. I won't. "Please, Albus, it was an accident." She wobbles and I put my hands on her hips to steady her. I'm angry, but she'll make herself sick if she keeps crying like this. She grabs my shoulders and holds on to the tightly.

"I'm not getting rid of it. That seems... wrong." Rose whispers, her blue eyes locking on mine. I stare back at her. "You listen to your morals now." I hiss under my breath. She stomps her foot like we're five again.

"No, Alb-why do I bother? Can't you just accept it?" She demands, letting go of my shoulders and wiping her face. "It was an accident, but I have to pay for it. So I'm keeping it." I frown.

"You bother because without me, you'd be living at home in disgrace and shame with your own parents not being able to look at you without disgust. You bother because you love me." I remind her. She shakes her head.

"Do I? Do _you _even love me, Albus?" Rose asks sadly.

"Of course I do." I say. Because it's true - I do love her. But that doesn't mean that I can overlook a giant mistake on her part. She swallows hard.

"Okay. Okay." She takes a deep breath. "What will we tell the media?" I can tell by her voice that she's scared. I pull her closer.

"The truth." I say, my voice catching. "You're having Malfoy's baby."

"We don't know that it's Malfoy's." Rose contradicts. My mind is immediately stabbed. If it isn't Malfoy's... If, god forbid, it's mine...

"It has to be his." I snap. "It has to be. It can't be mine." She looks at me sadly.

"Okay, fine, we will tell them it's Scorpius'. Is that okay?" I rest my chin on her forehead.

"Yes. Okay. It's okay. We can do this." Mostly I'm just saying this to myself, but oh well. I'm just as scared as she is.

"We can." Rose murmurs, though it's more of a murmur. "Together."

"Together."


	3. What Happened In Godric's Hollow

A young woman, maybe around twenty, marched down the street, her long red hair swinging. A baby sat snuggled into her side, with messy black hair. The rain poured down on the two, but the woman took no notice.

She stopped abruptly outside a light post, and looked around anxiously, as if waiting for something. Her emerald eyes scanned everything on the street before she was content. The woman disappeared in thin air, she if she was never there.

* * *

><p>The woman returned the next day, this time without the baby. The sun shone down on the puddles but she acted like she didn't notice. She held a small stick in her hand and waved it around, muttering something under her breath. She stood outside a house, the house her and her small family had been living in for a year. And then, again, she disappeared in thin air.<p>

* * *

><p>I must admit I didn't find this peculiar, or strange. Whilst I had been locked up all my life, my family muttered something about magic and Hogwarts and Voldemort. I was used to them disappearing and reappearing with their sticks and brooms. They whispered of Quidditch and muggles and squibs. I'm pretty sure I am what they call a squib.<p>

But they had made me a window and every day I peered out of the little window in my room and watched her. There was a man and a woman and a son. No-one ever seemed to visit them, and they rarely came outside, so that's why I was so startled by the woman walking up and down our street.

* * *

><p>On the eighth day of her walking up and down she was finally carrying something other than her stick - there was a small bag and a cake box. She hurried along, eyes low, and disappeared again, as she reached the lamppost outside her house. Later in the evening, I spotted a small yellow glow coming from their window, and I couldn't help but smile.<p>

* * *

><p>Two months had passed since the woman with the red hair had been out again. It was a late night, and I could hear my parents and grandparents and sister and her son downstairs, eating and laughing. It made my heart go cold.<p>

A pale man script down the street, in a long billowing black cloak, holding a stick in his hand. He marched up to the house where the little family lived, and waved the stick, before marching to the door. I couldn't see what happened afterwards, but I heard screaming. And then, even later again, a giant man on a motorcycle pulled up outside, taking the small baby in his arms, before - well, it looked like he was _flying. _

* * *

><p>I never saw that little family again, but my family was certainly put-out after the event. They spoke of revenge and death on someone called Harry Potter.<p>

My name is Juliet Zabini. I have a nephew called Blaise. And this a true account of what I saw.


	4. Demons Run

_Demons Run When A Good Man Goes To War_

* * *

><p>My name is Neville Longbottom. The three people standing in front of me should be dead.<p>

Hermione Granger.

Ron Weasley.

Harry Potter.

These people should be dead or dying, in this situation. With the Carrows and the Death Eaters and Voldemort, you'd think they would be dead. Not that I want them to be, of course, but it is a little strange.

It's funny how these things happen, isn't it? Like, you wouldn't expect me, or anyone really, to see these three people alive and basically unscathed. No broken bones, though quite a few cuts and bruises. No lifethreatening injuries.

It's strange to reflect on the last few months; with the Carrows, with Hannah, with the D.A and the war. So many things have changed. I can't believe that the trio are really truly back. We all thought we'd never see them again. We thought that they would defeat Voldemort whilst on the run and never want to see us again.

I swallow hard. Ginny will be overjoyed. Everyone will be overjoyed. I'm overjoyed - just a little in shock. But they're safe and happy and sound and all one piece - it's unbelievable. Really.

I wonder if they know about what happened this year. Michael Corner being tortured, almost to death. Luna disappearing. Ginny leaving at Easter. I wonder if they have seen either of them. Do they know about Astoria Greengrass? Little Astoria being betrothed to Malfoy so the Greengrasses can save their own asses? She's only twelve.

But surely they don't, they can't. They haven't been anywhere near any of us to hear this news. In a way, they've kind of had easier. They didn't watch their teachers starve a little boy to death. They didn't have to cope with watching people, your housemates, your friends disappear and not know whether its because they're being tortured or on the run or maybe, simply just dead. They didn't wish that they and all their friends were dead.

I remember when Hannah's parents tried to take her out of school. That was worse. Watching her screaming in the Great Hall, breaking out through the crowd. Watching her stun her own parents. But I don't know what I would do without her. Hannah is just amazing. She doesn't even complain when I rant, which is new. And I swear, she can brew anything in about three seconds flat. Absolutely amazing, that girl.

I stare each of them in the eyes, just to make sure they are real, this is actually happening. I'm too afraid to trust my own judgement anymore. But they are, because their eyes move and blink and stare right back.

I ball up my fists. I, Neville Longbottom, will get these three to Hogwarts as soon as I can. Then tell Ginny. Otherwise I'll die a painful death.


	5. The Engagement

Victoire sighed and smoothed down her skirt, stopping to admire the ring on her finger. "Hmm. Okay. Now that we're engaged, we're going to have to work hard on this wedding, aren't we?" Teddy peered at her over his shoulder and grinned.

"I suppose. But we only got engaged tonight. No need to plan. We can start in a few months." Teddy replied, smoothing back his turquoise hair. Victoire smiled, nodded, and kissed him on the cheek.

"I'll hold you to that, Mr Lupin." She whispered. He wrapped his arms around her.

"Of course you will, Miss Weasley." He whispered back.

* * *

><p>Three months had passed since that night, and Victoire still held him to his word. Teddy was dragged out of bed that morning.<p>

"Vic! Vicky? Where are you - where are _we _going?" He cried as she threw a jacket and jeans at him. Victoire laughed.

"To my parents' house, of course. They're helping us plan our wedding." She said. Teddy rubbed his eyes.

"Our wedding." He repeated. Victoire rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Teddy. Our wedding!" She snapped. "Come _on._ We'e meant to be there in ten minutes!"

Eventually, Teddy got ready and they arrived at Shell Cottage only ten minutes late. Fleur wrapped both of them in a hug.

"Victoire, Teddy, you made it!" She cried, "I was worried, you see, you were taking your time and I thought zomething might've happened to you!" Victoire blushed.

"No, no, Mama, we're fine. I promise." Victoire reassured her, kissing her mother on the cheek. Fleur beamed.

"Okay, Victoire. I have some ideas for the venue." Fleur lead them into the little sitting room and spread out some bridal magazines. Teddy sighed. Victoire's face lit up in delight, eyes scanning the pages.

"Teddy bear, look, look at that one!" She said excitedly, jabbing a finger at a picture of a forest with a small clearing. Teddy stared at it.

"A forest." He said numbly. "You want to get married in a _forest. _Is that really safe?" He asked faintly. Victoire rolled her eyes.

"It'll be fine!" She insisted, "It's beautiful. Do you like it?" She asked. Teddy shook his head.

"No, not really." He grumbled. Besides, it's like 40,000 Galleons. How are we going to afford that?" Teddy asked softly. Victoire sighed.

"I suppose. " Her eyes began analysing the locations, occasionally flickering to the cost. She smiled. "Look, Teddy bear! This one is 10,000 Galleons. More affordable. It's on the coast, see - a beautiful field. And it has accommodation, too, so we could stay there for our honeymoon!" She cried. Teddy shrugged.

"I suppose it's better than the last one." He admitted, "But I don't know. If we can't find anything else..." He trailed off. Fleur smiled.

"Bill and I could put in some money, if needed..." She suggested. Victoire's head shot up, alarmed.

"No, no, Teddy and I can pay for it ourselves. You don't have to spend a single knut, Mama, don't you dare try to pay for anything!" Victoire said quickly. Meanwhile, Teddy had began to thumb the pages. His face lit up.

"Victoire." He said softly, "Have you ever considered Australia?"


End file.
